Bound to Him

Chapter 2

𝓜𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓮

The sun had set, and I sat waiting for Violet to get here. I'm not sure if Dante is still here. After our little encounter this afternoon, I locked myself in my room, where no one dared to disturb me.

I didn't want to see him. A small glimpse of what my future held, and my heart's beating like a teenager experiencing their first crush or sexual act. Granted, I've never done anything sexual so, that's completely normal. I don't want it to be. Falling for my future husband is the last thing I should do, and if I somehow end up falling for him, he's coming with me.

All I wanted was for Violet to hurry up so I could get drunk. And for the night, forget about my life and the problems I seem to can't escape.

"Ms. Marianne," a soft knock came from the other side of my door. I heaved a heavy sigh. If this isn't about Vi, I could care less. "Ms. Violetta is here to see you." I heard her footsteps recede.

It's about time.

Practically jumping out of bed, I pulled my door open, heading to the front of the house. "You'll never believe who I'm marrying," I told Violetta as I descended the stairs. Not waiting for me, she started towards the kitchen, placing the few bottles of alcohol on the
island.

"I think my father is trying to get me killed," I stated. Grabbing a glass for both of us, I took a seat. Pulling the draw, I received the corkscrew and opened the bottle. I poured us both a drink, filling my glass to the brim. "So my husband-to-be is," Violet's eyes widened. Her eyes, however, weren't on me. They were staring at something behind me, someone.

I didn't need to turn to see who was there. I knew already. When he's around, my skin comes to life because I know he's watching me, taking me in. We only met today, but I know what his presence feels like.

Grabbing my glass, I downed it all at once.

Finally, I turned and met his eye. I'm not sure what it is about him, but he makes me nervous. An uneasy feeling creeps underneath my skin, but I like how that makes me feel. Every man I have ever met just left me disgusted. They would always come with sweet words and compliments, but I knew what they were truly after. The perfect wife. So they could show me off like a prized trophy. I wasn't someone for them to love. I was someone to fuck and show off.

Dante Russo was just like the rest of the bunch. I knew that much. My head was thinking one thing, and my body was doing the complete opposite of what I wanted it to do.

"Mr. Russo," I gave him one of my best fake smiles. "you're still here."

"I am,"

He was standing in the doorway, his shoulder resting on the wall. It had only been a few hours, but he still looked devilishly handsome.

"I have something for you," he started towards me, retrieving something from his pocket. "I would have given it to you earlier, but we were interrupted."

Dante placed a small blue velvet box in my hand. I knew what it was, and I didn't care enough to look at the style. I gripped the small box tightly, and before I knew it I had thrown it across the room.

Like before, a hint of amusement played in his eyes. And he was challenging me, trying to see how long I would hold his gaze. How quickly I would break.

One step forward turned into two. His body was inches from mine, and to hold his gaze, I had to look up at him. He was looking down at me. I hate that he practically towers over me. I hate the way he looks at me and how it makes me feel. And I hate the fact that I looked away because If I didn't, he probably would have been able to read every emotion swirling in my eyes.